Phantom Pains of Paradise
by MindForgedMan
Summary: Mortal minds were not meant to see the splendor of the Hereafter before their time came, not even the Master of Death. After slaying Voldemort, Harry must find something to help him come to grips with his sojourn to the afterlife lest the temptation of the Veil win out...
1. Chapter 1: Hallowed

Hermione, much like the rest of Hogwarts's defenders, had launched into a frenzy soon after seeing Harry's dead body held delicately in Hagrid's enormous hands.

It tore her apart inside seeing her first friend dead. The look on his face was peaceful, an uncommon for someone who'd never had a more than a breather before being thrown to the wolves again. He'd ended his life in the vain hope Voldemort wouldn't kill anyone else.

She knew she wasn't the only one with tears streaming down her face, shaking with barely contained fury as Voldemort gloated and lies about the circumstances of Harry's death after Silencing hundreds of wizards at once with the Elder Wand. The dam keeping back the crowd couldn't hold forever.

And it didn't.

"He beat you!" Ron screamed, throwing of Voldemort's mass Silencing Charm. The multitude of other wizards yelled in response.

Voldemort's magically-magnified voice, in its icy cruelty, simply said, "Then to the original plan. On your heads, be it."

The flurry of spellcasting returned to the battlefield on the school grounds; much of it quickly proceeded into the castle itself. Hundreds of wizards on both sides were sending spells with abandon at their enemies, rainbows of spellfire darting in every direction. Some were felled and did not stand again, but many more fought through the pain. Those defending Hogwarts, those standing against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, had a renewed spirit at seeing their linchpin made but a corpse. The Death Eaters could scarcely match their effort.

Hermione hadn't stopped berating herself for what she could have done. _If I had known more… if I had been better he'd still be here_ , she thought bitterly. She cast a strong Blasting Curse at nearby group of four nameless Death Eaters; they did not stand again once the explosion consumed them.

Ron was much the same, calling out curse after curse at the cruel bastards who killed his best mate. He just couldn't accept it. When it involved Harry and Death, 'it' always managed to save his skin. Ron didn't know if 'it' was divine, luck or something in between, but he was furious it had failed to show when it was most needed.

Ron spotted Fenrir Greyback standing over an injured student who couldn't have been beyond fourth year. Not at all forgetting the beast had attacked Bill, Ron Banished Greyback over railing to avoid accidentally hitting the student.

"Good riddance," Ron said nastily, turning away to find more Death Eaters.

Although the momentum had certainly been taken by the Hogwarts defenders, Bellatrix and (especially) Voldemort weren't so easily challenged, as they seemed to smite any who stood against them no matter the numbers. Voldemort in particular was holding off the three strongest defenders without apparent difficulty. Kingsley, McGonagall and Slughorn were each highly magically powerful, but for all the good their spells were they might as well have been throwing confetti at Voldemort. He'd easily deflected and overcome every curse, every combination spell, just everything they attacked him with.

Hermione had her own issues. She'd attacked Bellatrix with everything she had when she spotted her, but the woman was far too experienced for such a tactic to work. Luckily, Tonks had joined in to help.

"Hermione," Tonks said hurriedly as they dove behind cover to avoid Bella's Cruciatus Curse. "I'll take her on directly. I need you to back me up. Be unpredictable; Kingsley said you have a knack for obscure spells. Come on, let's end this!"

Hermione ran out after Tonks, who was alternating between Stunning Spells and Reductor Curses. They didn't impress Bellatrix, who swatted they away with her wand, not even bothering to use a Shield Charm. While Tonks continued and Bellatrix retaliated with a series of impressively powerful spells, Hermione recalled a spell she was sure no one but she, Cho Chang and Harry knew about. It had been, after all, an improperly spoken incantation. Her heart ached at the thought of her lost friend.

" _Expellimellius!"_ she said, pointing her wand at Bellatrix's hand. As she remembered, this mispronunciation of the Disarming Charm caused Bella's sleeve to spontaneously catch on fire. Whatever Bellatrix had been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that.

The fire worked as a distraction. Bellatrix couldn't leave it unattended, as it was quickly igniting her robe and was starting to burn her hand. She tried to quickly put it out with a Water-making Charm, but that brief distraction allowed Tonks to land a Reductor on her abdomen.

Bellatrix fell to her knees looking at the huge gash in her chest, not believing that she had been defeated by the inferior witches. She soon fell forward and spelled no more.

Tonks turned to look at Hermione and gave a slight smile. "When this is over, you've got to tell me how you came across such a nonsense charm as that."

Voldemort's fury at his top lieutenant's death was unmistakable. The three he was dueling were blown away by an unknown spell, as was anyone within fifty feet of him. Despite being vastly outnumbered, no one was sure they could defeat he and his remaining Death Eaters. The Prophecy seemed to imply they could not.

Then something strange occurred. Large Shield Charms began springing into being all over the place, preventing anyone from approaching Voldemort deeper in the Great Hall. Neither Ron nor Hermione, who had been watching Voldemort with the intent of joining the fight against him, could see who was casting the spells. Whoever it was seemed to be trying to isolate Voldemort from everyone else.

As if out of a dream, Harry Potter suddenly stood across from Voldemort, having appeared out from under his Invisibility Cloak. A looked of grim determination was on his face.

Ron couldn't hold back his yell of triumph. "There 'it' is! I knew Harry was too stubborn to let that bastard kill him! Take 'im down mate!"

Hermione thought she was dreaming. Harry always did seem to overcome impossible odds, but surely Voldemort would have used the Killing Curse and made sure he'd won. Harry couldn't survive it anymore, right?

"Do it Harry," she whispered. She could see his mouth moving as he and Voldemort circled around the space between the Shield Charms Harry had placed, mouths moving but the battle still roaring outside made it impossible to hear the words. Everyone in the Great Hall had stopped to watch the destined showdown.

Voldemort jabbed his wand at Harry and out came the Killing Curse. Harry raised Draco's wand and returned fire with what initially looked like the Disarming Charm. However, a moment later it erupted into a blast of gold fire that broke through Voldemort's curse, causing an ear-splitting ringing to echo throughout the castle. No one needed to say anything to realize what had happened. The Elder Wand wand flew through the air toward Harry, who caught it, while the man himself fell back. He was unmistakably, and finally, dead.

Everything had gone dead silent. Even those fighting outside had stopped. No doubt the Death Eaters, through their Dark Mark tattoos, realized Voldemort had been truly slain this time. The silence gave way to shouts of victory. The Shield Charms couldn't hold them back, they pushed through to reach their hero. The one who never gave up, who could withstand anything and come out on top through sheer will and dumb luck.

Hermione, however, had been the first to reach him. And she could have sworn his initial expression, before he threw up a smile, had been one of loss and emptiness.

* * *

"Ginny, what's wrong?" Hermione asked when the redhead came down the stairs from the boy's dormitory in tears.

It had been four days since the Battle of Hogwarts. So much death and destruction, it seemed absurd that their school had been the site of it.

"It's Harry, he-" she said before breaking down into sobs on the common room couch. Hermione pulled her into a hug, hoping to calm her enough to get a complete answer. After a minute, she seemed to settle and pulled away from Hermione.

"Now what's this about Harry? He's not hurt, is he?" she asked, trying to keep the fear from her voice.

"It's not like I'd know if he was…" Ginny replied bitterly. "Harry's broken things off between us, Hermione."

Her eyes widened in response. "Wait, why? That doesn't sound like him."

Ginny put her face in her hands. "He's barely spoke to me these past couple days. Whenever I kiss him he practically flinches, he barely touches me at all. Mum's invited him to stay at the Burrow even, but he he keeps saying he's going to stay at Hogwarts to help with the repairs before going back to Sirius's place. I just… did I do something wrong?" she asked despairingly, looking at her hands.

Hermione stood determinedly. "I'll find out what's going on, Ginny. There's got to be a good explanation for this."

Ginny nodded at Hermione, knowing she had a knack for getting Harry to open up when others couldn't. As she made her way towards the boy's dormitory staircase, Ron entered through the repaired portrait hole of Gryffindor Tower.

"There you are, Hermione," he said, trying for his usual goofy grin. It was obviously strained, but given he'd just lost a brother she couldn't blame him. He pulled Hermione into a hug, which she returned. He quickly began kissing her, which she wouldn't have minded if it wasn't turning into a full-blown snog. She knew she was being a little hypocritical given she practically attacked his mouth in the Chamber of Secrets, but this was pretty lousy timing.

Hermione nudged Ron a bit to get him to stop. He seemed rather annoyed at that, given it had lasted all of three seconds. But he covered it quickly.

"Ron, I'm worried about Harry," she said seriously.

Ron arched an eyebrow. "You said that yesterday too. What for?" he asked confusedly.

Hermione bit her bottom lip, hoping he didn't get too angry. "He's just broken up with Ginny and she can't understand why. Something's wrong with him, I know it is. It's not like him."

Ron did seem mad that Harry would do this and so soon after all they had lost just two days prior. But then he seemed to change his mind. "I dunno, Harry does tend to brood before and after horrible shite goes down, and that was about the horriblest."

Hermione wasn't buying it. "Then how do you explain him breaking up with your sister so suddenly? Harry might not be the most empathetic person, but he's not cold like that. He was pining after Ginny for weeks during the hunt."

Ron frowned slightly but it faded quickly. "To be honest, I was never happy about them dating. I mean, it's not like with you and me, they barely knew each other by comparison; I don't think they had a real conversation before fifth-year. It was bound to flame out after they were separated so long."

For Ron, that seemed to settle things. He made as of to pick up where they left off, so Hermione pulled out of his arms, annoyed that Ron seemed to be making every excuse to not get involved.

"Ronald, there are more important things than snogging right now. Your best mate is probably really hurting right now, we have to help him," Hermione said strongly.

Ron's face flushed a bit and scratched the back of his head nervously. "It's just… I'm no good at talking to him when he starts hanging dark clouds everywhere. You saw how he was like when he had that vision of Dad being attacked. He totally shut everyone out, including me."

It was then that Hermione realized why Ron was afraid to see Harry. He feared Harry and he weren't close enough for him to do anything about it. He felt inadequate. After running out on them during the hunt, he didn't have the confidence to face him about this just yet.

Now understanding his reluctance, Hermione said, "Then I'll have to go talk to him and see what this is about."

Ron wanted to be a little angry with her, but he thought better of it. Even if he and Hermione were dating, Harry had again isolated himself from his friends, he barely seemed to be eating, even. And as much as he wanted Hermione to continue helping him cope with Fred's death, he couldn't blame her for trying to aid their best friend.

Ron gave a slight smile and said, "You two have always seemed to have a beat on the other's pulse. Just… get my best mate back, Hermione."

* * *

"…I always thought the Hallows were just storybook nonsense. They always say there's a kernel of truth in legends but this is ridiculous," Nearly-Headless Nick said as he watched the young man in fascination. Ever since he'd seen him after the Battle, Nick had barely been able to draw away from Harry. The same had been true of all the Hogwarts ghosts. It was inexplicable, something about him had changed in quality and they could all feel it, causing them to seek him out as if he could answer whatever sensations he evoked in their incorporeal selves.

Harry was twirling the Elder Wand between his fingers absentmindedly. It was the strangest thing. After using it to repair his phoenix core wand, he'd placed the Elder Wand back in Dumbledore's tomb the night the war ended. Seeing Dumbledore's corpse, preserved by magic, had left him feeling cold and disturbed. When he'd awoken the Wand was in his pocket. The same thing occurred the next morning as well, no matter where he left the wand. Annoyingly, the Resurrection Stone had done the same and had even been repaired somehow despite its the damage it suffered. He was sure he was having strange dreams again too, but he could never remember them when he awoke. It was similar to the sensation of forgotten knowledge on the tip of one's tongue: frustratingly just out of reach but near enough to know it was out there.

"So now I've got a clingy super-wand and a rock with the worst sort of temptation." He sighed at the unfairness of it all. "Figures being Master of Death would have some kind of stupid perk. At least the Cloak just stays in my school trunk."

Nick continued looking at Harry for few moments. "Master of Death?" he asked, his curiosity obviously piqued at the term.

Harry waved him off. "Some silly thing. Dumbledore thought it might just be metaphorical. But just my luck, it seems I'm stuck with these things."

Most wizards… hell, most people, would be ecstatic to have an unbeatable wand and the ability to return dead loved ones, even if it was only as a shade, to talk to for a bit and find closure. But Harry wasn't most people, having the Hallows did nothing to ease his indescribable emptiness and occasional outbursts of anger and frustration at all that had happened. Nothing whatsoever.

"It's rather ironic, isn't it Harry?" Nick asked with amusement evident in his tone. Harry arched his eyebrow in question, so Nick continued, "When Sirius Black was killed you accosted me, demanding to know what the other side was like. But now you're the only one who can really answer that question and it's made you miserable."

Harry snorted. Nick wasn't being very considerate, but he had a valid point. "It's about par for the course in my life, honestly," he answered with slight bitterness entering his voice.

"Harry?" came the familiar, worried voice of his best friend.

Harry turned and saw Hermione entering the otherwise empty dormitory. Her eyes were glancing back and forth between Harry and Nearly-Headless Nick. She was obviously confused about the ghost's presence.

"Oh, don't mind me Miss Granger. Harry and I were just, er, catching up," Nick said unconvincingly.

"What's going on with you? Are you okay?" she asked seriously, seeming to find something distressing in Nick's explanation though what Harry couldn't tell.

"Nothing is wrong," he said without missing a beat. Though he kept a straight face, Hermione's doubting expression made it clear she didn't believe him. It probably didn't help that he'd practically growled out his answer.

"...Ginny says the two of you have separated." When Harry didn't say anything about it, she asked Harry, "You know we can talk about anything, right?"

Despite feeling as if he'd feel a lot better if people stopped worrying about him, Harry couldn't help the slight smile that appeared on his face.

"I know. I just… I don't know how to explain it. I need some time to work it out myself."

Hermione seemed to accept his answer. "I'll be there when you feel up to it," she said. Harry nodded.

The hug that followed dulled hurt Harry felt, though it quickly returned after she left down the staircase to the common room, leaving him with no one but the dead to converse with comfortably. He'd wanted to tell her what was wrong, but even he couldn't properly articulate it, not even to himself.

* * *

Having returned to the common room, Hermione could see that Ron had been anxiously awaiting her, pacing as he was up and down the length of the room.

Upon seeing her, Ron quickly asked, "Is he okay?"

Hermione embraced Ron. She couldn't contain her shuddering as she said, "Something is definitely wrong, Ron. He's shutting everyone else out but he's been talking to Nick. I'm certain I saw him speaking to the other House ghosts recently as well."

As they held each other, Ron came upon an idea. "Why don't we ask Dumbledore what to do?" Before she could point out the obvious fact that Dumbledore was dead, he added, "Harry said they'd done a portrait of him before he died, didn't he?"

Hermione perked up at this. "Of course! That's a brilliant idea Ron, he's got to have an idea about what's happening."

Ron struck a ridiculous pose and said, "I do have my moments, don't I?"

Hermione rolled her eyes, though the smirk gave away her appreciation of his lightheartedness. "Come on, let's find Dumbledore's portrait."

And so the fledgling couple made left Gryffindor Tower and walked in the direction of the later Headmaster's office, where more often than not the answers they received over the years escalated into ever larger questions.

* * *

 **(A/N):** And that's a wrap for this chapter. This will be a short story, but I will try to make them count. It's already finished, ending at just a handful of chapters which I will release once a week (or week-and-a-half) until the end of the story. Given just what Harry went through in _Deathly Hallows_ , on top of everything in his life beforehand, realistically I would expect some issues with getting within spitting distance of the afterlife. But I've never seen a story covering this sort of issue and I suspect others that do go for edginess or "dark" Harry or some such. Maybe I just missed good stories that cover this; easy to do given the nearly 800K Harry Potter stories on FFN! While Hermione and Ron start off together (sorry if that annoys you), I suppose the pairing tags give away things won't be hunky-dory. No bashing though, I aim to be realistic and in-character here. **Review** and **Favorite!**


	2. Chapter 2: Tantalized

_Harry found himself in a domain of bright mist. A world of muted sensation: even the ground gave off no particular feeling to his bare feet. The mist was strange indeed, indefinite in shape yet still clearly attempting to take on a structure of some kind. Harry could see nowhere to go, nothing of interest to see. Nothing but the bright, nearly formless void to walk across. At least his desire for clothes had been answered._

 _Some time later, he'd spoken to Dumbledore, he'd seen the mangled remains of Voldemort's mutilated soul. Dumbledore had long since left (though time wasn't easy to perceive here), Voldemort was nowhere in sight, and Harry had simply continued walking through the misty place he'd come to see as a sort of vapory incarnation of King's Cross._

 _It wasn't long before the walking turned into recollection and contemplation. Contemplation about his life up to this point and what to do if he went back. Harry had almost wanted to chuckle. Wasn't one's life supposed to flash before their mind's eye before they died?_

" _Seems I can only do things in the strangest of ways," he mused aloud. The sound of his voice quickly faded away, not echoing off the surrounding matter, leaving Harry feeling empty and alone._

 _Dumbledore said he could go back. He'd made it out to be a choice. For the first time, Harry saw the chance to truly put Voldemort behind him. To release the tension he always carried with him. But that would leave his friends and everyone else at the mercy of Voldemort._

 _He stopped walking and closed his eyes. "It's never really a choice, is it?" Harry was certain that Dumbledore knew he couldn't find it in himself to move on like this. It was the Prophecy all over again, the answers the late Headmaster would give always pointed to the same conclusion. He was starting to wish someone else had appeared…_

 _Harry had forgotten this misty place would answer his desires. A short distance ahead of him, he saw a sort of rustling on the surface of the mist. It was shifting, taking on a humanoid form, its hair elongating and the face becoming more defined and familiar. In seconds he recognized who it was._

" _Mum?" he said in disbelief. Harry rushed forward to close the distance between them._

 _But no matter how fast he ran, the figure of his mother floated backwards away from him faster than he could catch. Eventually they reached a large, familiar archway. His mother faded once she passed through it, though he caught her sad smile before she had gone. Harry gave up in bitterness._

" _It's time to wake up, Harry…" he heard her say despite her absence._

Harry was jolted out of his sleep. Despite his heavy breathing, he quickly reached for the parchment beside his bed and began recording his strange dream. After a few days of such odd dreams that he couldn't quite remember, Harry had decided to try and write them down so he could figure out what was bothering him. He hadn't even meant to take a nap, it was the middle of the day. But even so, the recollection of his near death vision was at the forefront of his mind.

After finishing writing it all down before he forgot it, Harry placed it within his school trunk. He grabbed his wands and proceeded to leave Gryffindor Tower to spend one last day assisting with the repairs of the castle. It was more of an excuse than anything. Had he really wanted to, the Elder Wand could have been used to fix the place in a day. But he'd had the nagging suspicion that the ones with the answers he sought were here at Hogwarts.

Harry ignored the nagging question in his mind. That being, "What was the question?"

* * *

Hermione and Ron briskly made their way to the Headmistress's office. It was a sign of Hermione's worried state that she didn't respond to any greetings from the passerby. Luckily, the gargoyle statue that normally guarded the office had been toppled and let them through with little more than a sarcastic remark.

"Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley?" McGonagall said confusedly. "Did you need something?"

Hermione rubbed her forearm nervously. "We need to speak to Dumbledore's portrait. It's… private."

McGonagall's lips thinned slightly before saying, "You no doubt know this, but portraits aren't the people they portray. They're clever imitations but they won't be able to tell you anything more than they learned from their subject."

"I know professor, but it's the best chance we've got."

The Headmistress inclined her head. "Very well. But make it quick, there's much work left to return the school to working order."

Once the Headmistress had left down the staircase, Hermione and Ron sought Dumbeldore's portrait. It was surprisingly difficult, as the portraits of the previous Heads of the school lined the entire wall behind the Headmistress's desk with no rhyme or reason to their ordering. Eventually, Ron spotted the portrait labelled for Dumbledore. But like many of the portraits, the canvas was empty; Dumbledore had apparently gone off.

Ron groaned in annoyance. "Now what do we do? We can't search the whole castle, it'd take ages to find him."

Hermione walked up to the portrait and said in a clear voice, "Professor Dumbledore." To Ron's surprise, the painting of the late wizard appeared at her call, seeming amused at who had summoned him.

"Ah, Miss Granger, Mister Weasley. A bit young to be playing Headmaster, no?" he said, blue eyes twinkling.

"Professor, we need your help," Hermione said anxiously, with Ron nodding. "It's about Harry."

Dumbledore's expression became serious at her words. "What seems to be the problem?"

Hermione wrung her hands momentarily before casting an Imperturbable Charm around she, Ron and the portrait, as a few of the other past Heads of Hogwarts had returned to their portraits to see what was going on. "He's pushing everyone away. He broke up Ginny, he barely talks to anyone that's not a ghost and he's not being open with anyone. Half the time he's just looking at that… that damn wand."

Dumbledore's portrait began stroking his lengthy beard as it thought over the situation. "Strange, Harry told me he would return the wand to my tomb. Did he change his mind or perhaps return to retrieve it later?"

Ron shook his head. "I don't think so. The only time he really leaves Gryffindor Tower is to help restore the castle. He has been rather chatty with the ghosts lately. Didn't you say he just talking to Nick this morning?"

At Hermione's nod, something apparently clicked with Dumbledore. "Have you seen either of the other Hallows with Harry? Perhaps the Stone?"

Hermione couldn't answer it, but Ron could. "Now that you mention it, I saw him looking at some kind of rock late the other night."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at Ron. "Why would you be watching Harry at night?" A moment later, she seemed more annoyed upon realizing something. "And if you knew he was looking at the Stone why didn't you tell me? That can't be good!"

"Oi, don't bite my head off," Ron said defensively. "I didn't know it was a Hallow, I've never seen the Stone before. It just looked like a black rock. Besides, I only saw because he was having fits in his dreams again."

Hermione found this distressful. "But Voldemort is dead. So why…"

"Miss Granger, you must calm down," Dumbledore said to prevent her from building up a head of steam in worry. "The real me perhaps never considered this possibility, but I suspect the Hallows are putting a sort of psychic pressure on Harry. That might explain some of his change in behavior."

"But why?" Ron asked. "They're cool and all, but aren't they just enchanted items?"

"This is speculation of course - no one's ever come into _true_ possession of more than one Hallow, let alone all three," Dumbledore began, sounding a bit like an excited academic. "But perhaps there was indeed more to being the Master of Death than I had considered. It may be a sort of duty that the Hallows be used. If that's the case then his changes may be due to the Hallows trying to get Harry use them, though for what purpose I cannot yet fathom."

After considering the his words for a few moments but not finding a course of action in her thoughts, Hermione asked, "What should we do then?"

"Maybe we could get his mind on other things?" Ron suggested. "You know, get him outside all the despair and death. Harry tends to catch the sullens after anything bad happens, but maybe a job or something would help get his mind off it all."

Hermione smiled at his suggestion and gave Ron a brief kiss on the cheek. "Sounds like a plan. Kingsley's looking for new Aurors to fill the ranks isn't he?"

As Ron nodded, Dumbledore's portrait said, "Excellent. I do hope Harry feels better soon. He's lucky to have friends like you two. If you continue to make an effort, I'm sure your presences will help. Do come to me again if you need further assistance!"

They bade the painting farewell and left the office. As they walked back in the direction of Gryffindor Tower, Ron spotted a familiar shade of light blonde hair. As he suspected, it was Luna Lovegood walking in their direction.

"Oh, hello Ron, Hermione," Luna said in the airy, serene voice they'd grudgingly come to adore. "The two of you are in a hurry. Did you run across an Umgubular Slashkilter I forgot to remove?"

Suppressing a sigh, Hermione said, "No Luna. We're just trying to find Harry. He's been having a rough time since the war ended."

Luna's expression saddened for a moment, a rare thing to see on her face. "He's been besieged by Wrackspurts lately, no wonder he's so out of sorts. I saw him speaking with the Grey Lady near the Ravenclaw dormitories, a whole colony of them seemed to be infesting him."

Having heard enough, Hermione picked up the pace when she heard Luna's assessment, and quickly made her way towards Ravenclaw.

* * *

"And there we are, Mister Potter," Flitwick said as he finished inspecting their work. "That was quite the wandwork, I couldn't have cast that Charm better myself."

Harry smiled halfheartedly. "Thanks, professor." It hadn't taken much to restore the physical damage done to Ravenclaw Tower. The Elder Wand hungered to be used and Harry found it annoying at how needy the wand could be, jealous whenever Harry would spell with his phoenix wand. He'd been about to cast a Breath Refreshment Charm with his original wand when the Elder Wand began to vibrate in his pocket until Harry caved and used it instead.

Besides the Mending Charm, there were various enchantments around the Ravenclaw dormitories that needed to be redone after the damage the castle sustained in the battle. A discovery that did not surprise Harry in the slightest was the massive bookcase in the common room that needed to have its Auto-Alphabetizing Charm redone after he magicked it back together. "I think I'll leave the Animation Charms on the doorway to you. That's a bit beyond my skillset and besides, I'm no good at thinking up philosophical puzzles."

Flitwick waved him off. "That's quite alright, it takes a certain kind of personality to do it properly. But I must ask, do you plan on doing your NEWTs? I do believe the Ministry is offering them later this summer to those who wish to take them."

Harry shrugged in reply. "Haven't figured out what I want to do yet. I don't see myself returning next year so maybe."

Flitwick's shoulders drooped slightly. As he reached to shake Harry's hand, he said, "It was an honor to teach you, Harry." Remembering all the fun he'd had in Charms over the years, Harry smiled and said, "Don't tell McGonagall, but your class was always my favorite."

As Harry walked away from the Ravenclaw dormitories, the Grey Lady appeared beside him again, still bearing the expression of curiosity she'd sported since the end of the battle. "Are you leaving?" she asked sadly.

"I - yeah, I am."

Though obviously disappointed, the ghostly woman said, "Do visit, OK?" Harry agreed to do so. With most of Hogwarts back in shape, Harry decided he'd head back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place to figure things out. He still had the nagging feeling that whatever he was looking for was at Hogwarts, but there's was no real explanation he could give to McGonagall to allow him to stay. Hero or not, she'd probably assume he just wanted to hide away in the castle.

"Harry!" called out a familiar voice, shaking him from his ruminations. The source turned out to be Ron jogging toward him, with Hermione just behind him. "You weren't going to leave without saying goodbye were you mate?" Ron asked with a knowing smirk.

Flushed at being called out on his haste, Harry said, "Sorry. I've just not felt myself lately."

Ron patted his shoulder and said in a slightly too cheerful voice, "And that's what we're going to fix. This has all been horrid and it's downright impossible to just ignore."

"What's your point?"

"My point is you need to get out, Harry. Get a job, find a place in the world. You know, find _you_ ," he said. "I'd mention how you should pick up a nice girl like I have, but I'm still pretty put out that you dumped Ginny like that. What the hell man?"

Though it came out as a joke, Harry knew Ron and Ginny were right to upset. "Look, Ron, I -" he began.

Ron interrupted, "It's not me you need to explain things to."

He couldn't really argue against that, leading to a momentary silence. Hermione, who had been watching the two in silence spoke up. "What will you do? Staying cooped up won't be any healthier for you than it was for Sirius." She couldn't help but notice Harry had the Elder Wand out, which didn't help her worry.

Ron nodded in agreement. "Hermione's right, mate. Kingsley's letting those of us who fought get a straight path into the Auror force. Thought for sure you'd have jumped at the chance by now."

"What about you? You wanted to be an Auror too," he replied evasively.

For the first time, Ron's somewhat forced cheerfulness cracked to reveal the grimace he'd clearly been suppressing. "I decided to go help George at the joke shop for awhile. After Fred - you know, he's hurting even more than the rest of us. I'm going where I feel I need to. His funeral is this weekend, in case you didn't hear."

Harry nodded, envious of Ron's certainty though not of his pain. "I'll be there," he said. Knowing they wouldn't let up if he didn't give them something to prove he wasn't going to hide away, Harry said, "The NEWTs… The Ministry is offering them to everyone who missed them the passed year. I'm thinking about taking them."

Surprised at what he said but proud nonetheless, Hermione asked, "But if Kingsley is temporarily waving the NEWT requirements why take them?"

"Because I'm not sure I want to be an Auror anymore, I'm a bit burnt out on chasing Dark wizards at this point. Thought I might as well keep my options open."

Ron gave him a strange look, saying, "Good luck with that. I'm sure you'll tell me how they go." Harry couldn't blame his disinterest; the OWL exams had been stressful enough.

Hermione moved passed Ron and gave Harry one of her patented bear hugs. Harry returned it, though not as strongly at first. After a moment, however, he found himself holding her tightly and trembling slightly. When she pulled back a short time later, Harry felt a bit emptier, though he didn't understand why. He thought he was on the cusp of a breakthrough, but it slipped through his fingers.

Ignoring Ron's slight scowl at their spontaneously tender moment, Hermione softly said, "Im glad someone is thinking ahead. Please stay in touch, Harry. We're worried about you."

"Don't worry, I'll invite the two of you over after giving Number 12 the once-over and recasting a Fidelius."

With the two seemingly satisfied, Harry told them goodbye and called for Kreacher, who had been ensuring Number 12 was clear of any intruders or traps, and restoring any damage done when the Death Eaters had managed to get in.

"Master Harry has summoned Kreacher?" the house-elf enquired, inclining his head into a slight bow.

"Is the house safe to enter?"

The aged elf nodded. "The Death Eaters pillaged what little the sneak thief left behind, but Kreacher has fixed the damage they did. They is not leaving any nasty enchantments behind."

"Must've realized there's was nothing of worth left there. I'll meet you there in a bit," he said.

With a nod and a loud crack, Kreacher Disapparated to the Black home Harry had inherited from his godfather. He could have gone with him, but Harry decided to get a last look at Hogwarts. The portraits, the suits of armor, the enchanting enchantment on the ceiling of the Great Hall, even the occasional trick stair. Harry found himself a bit saddened that he'd probably never see them again. But then recollections of the war came. Fred dying, Lupin being killed by Bellatrix, Lavender being brutally murdered by Greyback, and a year before that Dumbledore's chosen death at the hands of Snape.

Shaking his head to stop the morbid thoughts, Harry found himself at the Hogwarts for what he thought was likely the last time. Despite knowing he had to leave the school, his gut was telling him he was leaving behind something crucial to understanding his dreams and the listless state he couldn't rid himself of. But at that moment, both the Elder Wand and the Resurrection Stone began vibrating in his pocket, with an intense headache occurring at the same time. He pulled both of them out of his pocket and glared at the objects.

"Ya know, Ignotus Peverell really did luck out. The Cloak is never this needy, it just sits in my trunk like a good magical object," said Harry, annoyance in his voice. He cast a quick _Lumos_ to satisfy the Wand; the Stone seemed satisfied as long as it was held every so often.

With one last glance at Hogwarts castle from beyond the gates marking the boundary of its protective enchantments, Harry Disapparated to his house to prepare to take his NEWTs later in the summer. "Ron was right, it's time to figure things out."

* * *

 **(3 Months Later, September 1998 - Whitehall, London)**

Harry had never been one who greatly excelled in school. He'd done well, and in some areas, great even. But he always performed better when there was a concrete goal to shoot for.

The day he'd returned to Number 12, he'd owled the Ministry about taking his NEWTs in late July. It wasn't a tremendous amount of time to study, but he still wanted to at least shoot for something in the near future. Ironically, it was something Nick had said that gave him an idea for a job to go for. And once the idea had taken root he couldn't get it out of his head.

He'd tried to meet up with Ron and Hermione often, especially the latter given she was taking the exams as well. Her study schedule had become even more extreme, with revisions and practice exams being common sights around the Burrow. It turned out to be a godsend, however, as the Ministry department he was shooting for recommended having an understanding of the basics of Arithmancy. Despite the limited time, Hermione had been all-too-willing to have one of her friends learn the subject. Ron had gotten annoyed after seeing her teach Harry the subject so often, though his remarks weren't too cutting.

All things considered, Harry was pleased with his exam results. He'd aced Defense and Charms, and had scored high in Transfiguration, Potions and Herbology. He'd not been jealous when Hermione had aced everything with "Outstandings", because what else would she get?

He knew his friends were still worried about him, as he'd often space out with a Hallow in hand. And once he realized he'd been waking Ron up when he slept at the Burrow, he'd taken to spending most of his nights at Number 12, which made Kreacher happier at least. Hermione suggested a Dreamless Sleeping Potion but had been very concerned when he declined them. His dreams had been instrumental in helping him lay down a goal to reach, and his dream log helped him keep track of it all.

Harry focused on the present as he grabbed a bit of Floo Powder and transported to the Ministry atrium. Upon his appearance, dressed in the blue robes of the department he'd successfully gotten employed at, people who saw him started whispering and pointing. Subtle, that. He'd kept out the public eye for a reason.

Mercifully, he'd reached the elevator quickly as its doors opened. A cool, feminine voice asked which floor he was heading for.

Nervously rubbing the Stone he'd had inlaid in a ring, Harry said, "Level Nine, Department of Mysteries."

* * *

 **(A/N):** I feel so stupid. I thought I published this like two days ago, but it's been sitting in my documents. Glad I noticed this morning, sorry!

I wasn't totally satisfied with this chapter, mostly with the transition to Harry's new job in the Department of Mysteries. But, hopefully it was passable enough as I needed it to be quick given this isn't a very long story. Anyway, have a guess at what you think is going to happen next.

:-)


	3. Chapter 3: Fractures Un-Veiled

**(A/N):** Sorry this is a week late. My initial version of this chapter had to be entirely rewritten (as did the next chapter), as before uploading I found myself very disappointed in them. This version felt better when I reread it. So we are back on track now~

* * *

"…And you would not believe what some of the blokes over in the Fundamentals division have been cooking up," Harry said excitedly. "After a month of long hours they managed to spell together a perpetual spell machine with a net energy gain to let you keep up the chain casting. It was more proof of concept than anything - it can only cast one preset spell at higher and higher intensities - but I can't believe it actually worked."

Hermione found his excitement infectious, returning the smile Harry had on his face. "I suppose they'll have to print a new edition of Waffling's _Magical Theory_ if the Axiom of Anti-infinity has another exception case."

Harry shook his head. "Croacker's trying to argue it falls under the Abstract Exception Clause like with the Fidelius when the Secret-Keepers dies and so that it's not a new case of infinite magic. Man's off his rocker, he's far too partial to the classical views on fundamental magic. He'd rather it get lost in the footnotes at best."

The two shared a laugh at the expense of Harry's rigid boss in the Department of Mysteries, and not for the first time in the five months since Harry gained employment there. Croacker specialized in Temporal Magic, well-known to be extraordinarily difficult and dangerous. But it left him with his own biases, given such magic was indeed inherently finite in scope. It was common for Hermione to ask Harry what was going on in his department, given its largely autonomous nature from the rest of the Ministry.

Hermione asked, "As an Unspeakable, is it really wise to be telling someone else about what's going on in your department? I distinctly recall it being illegal to do so. And as an employee of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement trust me, my recollection is correct."

The mirth in her expression made it clear she was joking, but Harry still snorted and said, "Oh shove it. Everyone else might fall for 'I'm Hermione Granger, rule-follower extraordinaire' and 'Did you just commit a wand-handling violation? A fine for you, good sir'. But I distinctly recall you," he began counting on his fingers. "Setting teachers on fire, brewing elicit elixirs with the intent to impersonate and abusing time magic to free an imprisoned convict. And people said I had no regard for the rules…"

Hermione lightly swatted his arm and the two shared another laugh at the mention of their ridiculous adventures together. The silence that followed was companionable, so they both took brief sips of their coffee and looked around the cafe they were in. It was a small Muggle business a few blocks from the Ministry, a place Hermione had found and which became a place for them to catch up on a weekly basis, busy as they were in their respective, new careers at the Ministry of Magic. A wandless _Muffliato_ ensured no Muggles (nor anyone else) heard their conversations.

Breaking the silence, Harry said, "Besides, if I can't tell my best friend, who went through hell and back with me, what sorts of crazy stuff we're doing down there, I'd have a screw loose."

Hermione looked at him, sending him a silent thank you with her soft expression. She imagined, she assumed, the subtle reddening of Harry's cheeks, as she was distracted by the strange smoothness around Harry's eyes. His skin wasn't normally so uniform there...

Broaching a touchy subject, Hermione delicately said, "Well if that's the case, what have you been working on? I noticed that you say a lot of what the other research divisions are doing but you're rather vague about your own."

Harry scratched his wrist nervously, trying to keep a cool demeanor in the face of her direct question. It was a topic Harry had actively discouraged discussion of since he'd been promoted and allowed some leeway in the research he worked on. It wasn't that he didn't want to talk about it with Hermione. Outside of his colleagues, she was the one he'd want talk with the most about it. But he knew without a doubt she'd be unhappy about it.

Sipping his coffee again ("stop shaking, hands!"), Harry replied nonchalantly, "Oh, you know. I told you they shunted me over into the Love division once they realized how attuned to that kind of magic I was."

"Harry…"

Sighing, he said, "Fiiiine, but I'll never hear the end of it." He looked her in the eyes. "Those 'chocolate-brown eyes' will be the death of me, I swear…"

Hermione palmed her face at the 'subtle' reference to a pass at her made by one of the creepy interns working in the Elf Liaison Office. Ron had been halfway out the door to hex the man when Harry had told the story one night until Hermione made clear she'd handled the situation. The man's inability to meet Hermione's eyes when Harry saw him convinced him he'd missed something great.

Getting on with it, Harry said, "I've been doing some experimental work, actually. With, uh, you know… the Veil."

Harry was actually glad they were in a Muggle establishment as Hermione couldn't react to negatively without drawing attention to the lack of sound they made due to the spell he'd cast. She settled for looking at him with a furrowed brow.

"Harry, what are thinking? I thought you of all people would stay away from that… that whatever it is."

Harry had to refrain from gritting his teeth at the reference to his godfather. "Hermione, you _know_ I haven't. But there's just something about it. It's not even like before. Ever since I came back things have been odd. The Veil has something to do with it, I just know it."

"How do you know?"

"Well - you know. The Hallows." Her worried expression when he said the forbidden words caused him to quickly follow up his statements, saying, "Whenever I'm near them with all three, they have a reaction, as if there's something I'm supposed to do with it but I don't know what. I've been trying to..."

Hermione had stopped listening for a moment, noticing the strange, unfamiliar gleam in Harry's eyes. He didn't notice that she wasn't responding to him, he continued speaking about whatever theories he had about the Veil, but he had been staring off into space as he spoke, almost in a trance of sorts. But it was the unnaturally smooth and clear features around Harry's eyes that struck her the most. Even in the safer moments, there was always hint of wariness and caution Harry carried with him, a visible, if slight, lack of sleep that grew more pronounced as Voldemort had gotten bolder.

"Harry," Hermione interrupted him.

"Hm?"

Palming her wand, Hermione pointed it at Harry from beneath the table and muttered, "Finite", causing Harry to groan. The charm Harry had used became evident as its effects disappeared. There were dark circles beneath his eyes, which were slightly reddened from lack of sleep. His face was paler than usual; not quite sickly but in great need of sunlight.

Restraining the worry that filed her, Hermione said firmly, "You haven't been taking care of yourself."

Harry wasn't meeting her eyes anymore, embarrassment at having been caught evident on his face. When he didn't respond, see continued, "Is it the Veil? The Hallows? Please don't shut me out…"

His jaw clenched briefly before saying, "It's nothing, just bad dreams about the war keeping me up lately." He briefly glanced at Hermione who didn't seem to be buying his lies. "If I'm having to fess up about my personal life, you should too. How are you and Ron doing? Haven't seen him much in weeks."

Though it had been chosen at random, Harry knew he'd picked the right topic almost immediately as Hermione's lips thinned as if she'd swallowed a lemon. Bad news, he took it.

"Um, we're… going, I suppose." Harry raised an eyebrow, so she elaborated. "Well, you know he's been busy ever since the Cannons signed him as reserve Keeper. What with my work in the DMLE and him travelling so much, things've been a little… trying."

He felt a bit guilty as he didn't want to feel relieved that his friends were having issues of an unspoken nature, but Harry was glad the heat was off him for the moment.

Eyeing her pointedly, he asked, "Are you going to dance around it or is it none of my business?"

Hermione squinted at him but then sighed. "Ron's been distant for awhile now. I thought things were going great the first couple of months, it was exciting honestly. But we don't seem to be on the same page a lot of the time. I'm at work when he's home resting, I get home to relax and am too tired to do much with him before he has a practice session or a match. Can't even remember the last one I saw all the way through…" Her expression was one of guilt, and a bit of sadness.

"But the two of you talk about it, right?"

It was her turn to avoid his eyes, causing Harry to worry. He wasn't used to seeing her lacking self-assurance in, well, anything she did. Maybe his plan to divert attention from himself wasn't so great.

Coughing once due to the awkwardness, Harry said, "Well I think of the two of you talk it out you can patch things up. That's what best friends do, right?"

As the two of them stood up to give a quick hug goodbye, Hermione said, "Right."

When she Apparated to the Ministry afterwards, she realized Harry had managed to distract her questioning and worries. She couldn't shake the memory of his face underneath the Concealment Spells. It wasn't on the level of mania, but definitely obsession.

"Something's gone wrong and his job is just making it worse," she said. Feeling she was going to need help in this, Hermione resolved to talk to Ron about it that evening. What could go wrong?

* * *

"How are you doing that, Potter?" asked Croaker in awe more than expecting a direct answer. Though he was technically the head of the Department of Mysteries, as he primarily worked in the Time Chamber, he wasn't entirely privy to all the details of every other team. Theirs was a department of secrecy, unsurprisingly. Knowledge was closely guarded unless there was a very good reason to share it at a given time.

Harry and the team he'd placed in charge of in the Chamber of Death were arranged around the Veil. Harry had the Elder Wand out, testing the effects of its abilities when applied to the Veil, while the rest took notes of their observations.

"Ah, well you know, Dumbledore showed me a little of this, a little of that, before he died," Harry lied through his teeth.

Despite his terrible lying skills, Croaker bought it if only because Harry was actually causing visible changes to the rippling substance within the archway of the Veil. The spell Harry was currently using was the Revelio Spell. Normally the spell was used as a general purpose Untransfiguration spell for Human Transfiguration or to show invisible things, Harry on a whim had thought to cast it at the Veil using Death's wand to see if anything odd happened.

He immediately knew something was working, as when he began casting the spell the tattered, vaporous Veil began undulating strangely. He couldn't help but think of his godfather. Memories of his death at the hands of the strange portal there was a not infrequent dream. But that's when the real changes had begun. Images of Sirius right before his death appeared in the archway as if from a movie projector, showing Sirius dueling his cousin Bellatrix, only to be cursed and fall backwards into the Veil, causing the projected image to feel away, leaving Harry very unsettled.

After that, he'd changed to focus on another person while he continued the spell: Dumbledore. In response, the Veil portrayed some of Dumbledore's final moments, though Harry decided to end the Revelio Spell, not wanting to see anymore of it.

After taking steadying breath, Harry said to his team, "What d'you think? Seems clear the Veil has more functionality than just killing anyone who passes through."

Carter Bornsley, a stout, brown-haired man nine years Harry's senior, spoke up in his booming voice. "This seems to provide evidence of a possible origin of the Veil. Ephyra, Greece. It's capacity to be used as an Oracle of sorts for the dead makes this seem a good possibility."

Grant Kirkhope, another recent hire like Harry, replied, "You mean the theory it was used in the Necromanteion for the Hades cult? Dent over in the Space Chamber insists it was part of a temple in Jerusalem. Something about what's-his-name... You know, that bloke the Muggles like."

"Jesus," Harry said while shaking his head.

"Oi, don't get snappy with me."

Carter ignored there digression. "Dent is a Christian. Very Christian, honestly. He puts too much stock on there being a Veil there. Besides, the design of the archway fits that the time period when the Hades worshippers were very active there. Dent can get over himself. What do you think, Potter?"

Harry had briefly slipped into listening to the barely audible whispering that some could hear emanating from the portal. He'd been practicing a Occlumency for a few months so that it didn't completely enthrall him, but it would still catch him off guard occasionally.

Turning to answer Carter, Harry said, "It may well have been _used_ at the Necromanteion, but that wasn't its origin. Someone very different created it, I suspect."

Carter looked at Harry shrewdly. "What makes you believe that?"

"Call it intuition."

"Give me something more solid than a hunch and then I could actually consider it," he replied coolly.

The Elder Wand vibrated slightly in Harry's hand, leading to another sudden revelation in Harry's mind. The wand didn't actually tell him what to do, but it spurred him to try something he'd thought of when he saw Hermione that day, a spell he'd seen her use once but had never done himself.

Harry confidently said, "Just watch." He pointed the Elder Wand back at the Veil and said, " _Aparecium_." The spell was intended to be used to reveal hidden writing. Harry was banking on the Veil having something of that sort as an identifying mark.

Grant and Carter were even more surprised by the new result than when it had shown images of people's deaths within the portal. This time only a single thing appeared within the Veil. It was an image of a triangle within which was a circle, which had a line going up the middle of it.

"Isn't that…' began Grant.

"Beedle and the Bard," answered Carter.

"As I thought," Harry said. "Death must have created this archway. It's the only thing that makes sense. What wizard could?"

Carter shook his head in disbelief. "But how? That mark is only a few centuries old. The architecture is definitely that of ancient Ephrya, so how can a more recent British children's story have anything to do with it?"

"Whether you accept it or not, the mark of the Deathly Hallows is undeniably there. I maintain that no wizard could make this," Harry said firmly.

Croaker, who had been quietly watching the experiment go down, snapped out of his reverie as the three were about to continue their conversation. "Well Potter, it's good to see Mintumble wasn't exaggerating about you. I'll expect a report on my desk by the end of the week, preferably with as few redactions as possible."

After the Department Head left the chamber, the three of them made to follow Croacker's lead to leave work. "Fancy that, he almost complimented you. Might be a good day to play the lotto, mate," said Grant.

"It's not surprising. There's hardly ever been anything of note with the research related to the Veil since the Ministry was founded," said Carter. "It's just sat here since it was removed from the Isle of the Blessed by the Wizard's Council. It's probably the biggest conceptual breakthrough this chamber has ever seen, it could open up whole new avenues of magic research."

As the three of them exited the Department of Mysteries, Grant asked, "You two fancy a pint?"

Shrugging, Carter said, "Why not. Admittedly. I wasn't prepared for all that… whatever it is Potter did to make all that occur; I'm not convinced you were just using the spells you called out. I'm still a bit shook up from it."

"Come on Potter, you're not gonna leave me to drink in misery with this guy are ya?"

"Can't make it I'm afraid. I've already made plans to spend the evening watching my godson."

Grant groaned and said in irritation, "You better be getting a good shag out of it for all the times you tell us that's what's keeping you busy."

Before Harry could respond Carter interjected, "I'll take to him the pub. You know how he gets the longer he hasn't had a firewhiskey after hours."

Accepting the not entirely spurious excuse, Harry bid his colleagues good evening before Apparating to just outside the Tonks residence and rang the doorbell. As only a handful of wizards could enter the warded property uninhibited, the door was quickly answered revealing a brown-haired woman Harry had seen much of the past several months, though not the way Grant would have told him to.

"Harry," Andromeda said happily. "Here to see Teddy again?"

Nodding, Harry was let inside and saw Nymphadora Tonks asleep on the living room couch while the infant Teddy was crawling around the floor chasing magical bubbles Andromeda had conjured for him.

"Teddy, come here little tike," Harry said cheerfully. When the infant saw him, his face broke into a large smile and he quickly, though not gracefully, crawled towards Harry. When Harry picked him up, the boy shape-shifted his hair to the messy, jet-black look Harry could never change. The young Metamorphmagus seemed to be trying to copy Harry's scar as well but instead of a lightning bolt it ended as a wavy line on his forehead. "No need for the extra bit, Ted. As it turns out scars are a lot more trouble than they're worth."

Andromeda smiled at the scene. Harry usually seemed down when he wasn't playing with her grandson. Nymphadora seemed to have an easier time communicating with him so as usual she left them to it and went to the kitchen to prepare dinner.

"I suppose that's why you're nervous about taking Teddy out in public," Tonks said abruptly, apparently not asleep as she had seemed.

Harry twitched a bit, causing Teddy to yelp at his sudden movement. As he calmed him down, Harry said, Well, yeah. The moment someone sees me with a mini me I'll never hear the end of it."

"What about when you have kids of your own?"

Harry shrugged and looked uncomfortable. "Dunno. Haven't thought about anything like that."

Tonks smirked and said, "Then what do you think about? As often as you visit, Mum is going to think we're trying to keep secret a relationship."

"That's not - I'm not -"

Tonks laughed loudly at his flushed face and said, "Merlin, you're so easy to work up. I know you're not, Harry. But my point stands. Unless you're holding Teddy every time I see you, well, you look lost."

Rather than answer, Harry spent a minute looking into the fireplace as if the flames would yield the answer to Tonks's question. After that failed, he said, "Have you ever felt like you might be on the cusp of something huge… Something that might have all the answers you need but you're afraid it will blow up in your face and make it all meaningless?"

Tonks saw his expression become one she'd only seen when he fought Voldemort back in May. A look of determination, but strained as if it were only just being kept up.

"No, I can't say I have. Is there a story behind this? You're not giving me much to go on."

Claiming up again, Harry muttered, "Never mind," much to Tonks's disappointment.

The rest of Harry's stay was at least amicable, but he seemed determined to primarily entertain Teddy. Tonks's hated to admit it, but he took to the task just a little better than she did. Teddy rarely copied her looks with his ability, though that may have been because she subconsciously changed her appearance so often he wasn't sure which was her original look. To be honest, she couldn't really remember what her normal looks were anymore.

After she laid Teddy down to bed, Harry told she and her mother goodnight and left for Number 12.

"I'm worried about Harry, Mum."

Looking sympathetic, Andromeda said, "He does seem to very quick to leave whenever Teddy goes to bed. Did something happen to him?"

"I don't know, he won't tell me. He just barely mentioned being closed to doing something important but when I asked him to explain he decided to pretend he hadn't said anything."

Looking concerned, her mother said, "Perhaps you should ask his friends. They're more likely to know what's going on."

Exhaling exaggeratedly, Tonks said, "I sure hope so."

* * *

Hermione was heading down from the stands after catching some of the tail end of Ron's Quidditch match against Puddlemere United. For the first season in ages, the Chudley Cannons were winning games regularly due in no small part in their acquisition of another competent Keeper and a Seeker that actually knew the Snitch was the little ball. Ron had saved nearly every attempted goal by Puddlemere's Chasers, to the joy of their fans and - to Hermione's chagrin - his fangirls.

Once she'd reached Ron, she was a little annoyed to see one of the Cannons's Chasers hanging on Ron's arm as he recounted some of his better saves. Conveniently, the girl's name was Romilda so Hermione had been on guard whenever she was around.

Walking quickly and pulling Ron aware from her, Hermione said, "Well done out there." She gave Ron a slightly lingering kiss and Miss Tramp seemed to catch the hint.

When they came up for air, Ron smirked and said, "No need for jealousy, Hermione. Romilda is just a flirt."

Hermione rolled her eyes and said, "Yes, well, considering what the last Romilda did to you I think I'll take my chances and be petty."

"I guess Muggleborns can drop logic as well as purebloods."

"What?"

Ron shook his head and said, "Harry told me what you said in first year when you two reached Snape's puzzle. I was hurt, Herms. A little offended, even," he said with a faux hurt tone.

The two seemed to get back on track and for that Hermione was grateful. Things had been tricky for them in recent months. She couldn't figure out why and Ron seemed adamant on not saying what the problem was. The not-infrequent senseless bickering hadn't been a welcomed return.

After she Side-along Apparated them to Ron's flat, Ron began a snog that was not unwanted. However, one doesn't simply play Quidditch and return with a pleasant odor.

Hermione pushed him slightly and said, "No, sorry, not until you've showered. I don't want to feel like I'm kissing Goyle."

A bit embarrassed but unable to deny her point, he muttered something that sounded like "thought I smelled manly…"

Fifteen minutes later Ron appeared back in the living room in sweatpants and no shirt. Before she could talk to him, Ron began kissing her again and so she figured she could postpone it.

It all seemed to be going well enough. She was never very confident at this sort of thing. Was there a rhythm to whose tongue moved? Breathing was always tricky, she was surprised no wizard had thought up a way to solve that dilemma. But then Ron's hand began snaking up under her shirt and lightly grabbed her breast. Hermione stopped the kiss and swatted Ron's arm.

"Ron, I didn't tell you you could do that!" she huffed annoyedly.

Ron seemed to be trying to keep the mood from souring and said, "Come on, I just wanted to see if we could try something more for once."

"Then ask first next time."

"...So, can we?" he asked while grinning.

Frowning, Hermione said, "I-I'm not sure. I don't think I'm ready."

Ron sat upright on the couch and gritted his teeth. "Then _when_ , Hermione? When will you be ready? We've been dating for like eight months and I feel like we haven't moved at all."

"You can't rush these sorts of things. I can't choose when I feel comfortable with… that."

Ron seemed like he was going to press the issue before he sighed and nodded his head in acceptance. Hermione really didn't know why she felt so uncomfortable taking their relationship further than the occasional snog. Ron usually never made her feel pressed into it, and she'd certainly thought about it. But every time it was… time she lost her nerves and stopped them from doing it. Maybe she needed to ask another woman for advice. It didn't seem like a "consult-the-books" problem.

As an attempt to shift away from the burgeoning awkwardness, Hermione began, "Listen Ron, when Harry and I were having coffee this morning, I found something wrong. You see,..."

"And here we go," Ron interjected, an unmistakably irritated expression appearing on his face.

"He-huh?"

"No no, go on. Blokes love to hear about other men's problems when their girlfriends have hang ups with them."

"He's your friend too, Ron. But he's hurting and there's he's having some kind of problem so I-"

"Did you ever stop to think that I might be hurting? That I might be having problems? It'd be nice if my girlfriend cared half as much about me as she did about another man," he said bitterly.

Silence took residence between them as Ron's words settled on Hermione. Had she been ignoring him? It hadn't felt like it, but with her intense work trying to reform British wizarding laws around house-elf enslavement and the "loopholes" that allowed the wealthy to hand money to government officials, trying to puzzle out what was going on with Harry this time and attending Ron's Quidditch matches when possible, she thought she'd had all her bases covered. Certainly her schedule felt filled to the brim.

"I mean it's like you don't even notice how draining it is trying to keep George from calling it quits after Fred died," Ron said softly.

"Ron, I'm sorry I didn't notice. It's just, between all the pressure I'm under at work and this stuff with Harry… well, I thought you had a handle on everything. You seemed to be doing well so…"

Ron's gaze hardened and he seemed to resign himself to something. He stood up and walked in the direction of the single bedroom in his flat.

Confused, Hermione asked, "Ron, what are you doing?"

Ron stopped his exit, and without turning around to look at her, he said, "I didn't want to accept it at first. I mean, who'd just listen to the screeching of an evil piece of soul about one's own friends?"

"What are you talking about? You're not making sense Ron?" Hermione said, feeling highly apprehensive at the unfamiliar tone Ron was speaking to her in.

He finally turned around to look at her and she was surprised to see his glistening, reddening eyes. "Turns out the locket was right. I'll always be of secondary concern to you. I'll never measure up to his importance in your eyes. I've been wondering for months about it, I think I just need to face the facts."

Hermione felt her own tears appearing and said, "That's not fair. He's my best friend. I'm supposed to be there for him too. I can't let him fall apart like that. He's disguising his appearance so people don't notice he's unwell Ron."

Ron snorted a little. "And here I thought your boyfriend, who was also your best friend, might get just a little more preferential treatment. Or just a bit more notice when I need help too. But every time I turn around it's 'Harry has this problem, Ronald' and 'I'm worried about Harry'-o'clock'. I thought we might be the one place where that wouldn't happen."

"What are you saying?" she asked fearfully.

Ron turned back around and walked to his door. "What I'm saying, I suppose, is that I can't stay in a relationship where I'm less important to my girlfriend than another man. I trust you'll see yourself out."

Hermione couldn't believe what had just happened. Her heart was beating quickly and her tears were falling uninhibited. And then the cold of his rejection creeped in, causing her to begin sobbing. She'd never felt this type of pain. Had she really been so horrible a girlfriend? She was sure she could've been better. Could still be better, if Ron would just listen. But if he heard her calling his name he didn't respond. After thirty minutes of a failed endeavor, Hermione decided to save what remained of her dignity and Apparated to the Burrow.

When she arrived, Mrs. Weasley quickly saw her state and said, "Hermione, what's wrong?"

"M-Molly, Ron he-he ended things between us. I just don't know what I was supposed to do?" she managed to say.

Mrs. Weasley embraced her and kept telling her things would be okay. Eventually, they sat down on the couch and she made the both of them tea despite a strong desire for something stronger as Hermione told her what happened.

After an unnecessarily long sip, Hermione asked, "Do you think I've been a bad girlfriend?"

Molly sighed and the words she said would begin a conversation Hermione never forgot.

"Not to sound unsympathetic - you know I love you like your one of my own - but I was honestly surprised you and Ron lasted as long as you did."

* * *

 **(A/N):** Yeah, sorry about that delay. The initial version of this chapter was, as I discovered, very contrary to my intention to avoid like bashing of characters. Ron was unnecessarily mean and pushy, so I took a week to rewrite this chapter and the chapter that comes after it before I started uploading again. Please please **Favorite** and **Review**! They motivate me~~~

I think in this version it's more realistic. Ron feels like Hermione isn't as committed as he is and that she's holding back more than he thinks is reasonable. Hermione has her own issues and he's coming to realize what those might be. And as the ending suggests, those reasons (which are based on canon) will feature heavily in the next chapter. So to those asking to end the R/Hr and to proceed with the H/Hr, there's some of that progress. As I said, this story isn't going to be long so it's not going to take overly long. :-) Lastly, Harry's relationship with Death's objects continues next chapter as well, obviously.


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